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Summary: Distressed with the recent kidnaping of Maylin, Keme must see a doctor to make sure he'd be standing if she was ever to get back.
Date: March 19th, 1883.
Rendered Useless
Doctor's Office
The reception room is warm and cosy, a dense coat and hatrack by the door and comfortable sofas against the walls. There is a small desk by the door to the office in the back of the room though no receptionist seems to work here so either the doctor herself is sitting there or it's vacant. Opposite the desk is a staircase leading up to the second floor but the door at the top is usually locked tight as that's where the doctor lives. In the center of the room is a low coffee table, upon which is usually a couple of mugs, a small pot of honey and a pitcher of water, a warm kettle of very fragrant British tea kept upon the small stove on the east wall. A few potted plants brighten the atmosphere, as well as the glow from the stove and a few oil lamps.
Doors to the east and west lead to the largest rooms on the first floor, the former being the operating room and the latter, the recovery room.
Minutes after gunfire was heard just north of town, very strong knocks, almost desperate, were heard at the door.
The lamps inside the building are suddenly turned up a bit and the door is opened cautiously. "May I help you?", a voice says through the crack. Whomever it is is backlit by the lamps and the facial features are hard to make out.
Keme had a grimace of pain on his face, a hand resting and giving him suport on the door's marker. Blood ran on the side of his head, and if Remy catched a whole glimpse of the situation, she'd see his right had the pants there riped and soaked in lots of blood. "Please miss, call the doctor… I need him…"
Remy opens the door a bit wider. "I am the doctor. Come in…", she says, clearing the way for the man to enter. The room is warm, cozy. The doctor herself is small, dark haired and had an apron on over her
Keme widens his eyes slightly and needs a bit of time to adjust to the fact that the doctor was a woman. He didn't seem mad at that fact at all, just surprised. "Huh… Thanks." As he steps in, grimaces crosses his face at each given step. "I was hit by the handle of a gun in the head… and shot in the leg." He doesn't sit, though, knowing that if he did, he wouldn't be able to stand.
Remy blinks a bit as the man comes in. She is equally surprised that an indian would be in her doctor's office. "You are very welcome. I am afraid I cannot do much for your head. But come into the exam room and let me look at the leg.", she says in a clipped English accent. "We will stop the bleeding and stitch it up. The fact that you are walking is a good sign.
Keme panted and looked out to the door, anger and fears bursting in his eyes while his reason and current condition helped him keep those chaotic emotions in check. "Ok, ma'am… please, lead the way."
Remy frowns a bit as she notices the emotions cross his face. She had done nothing improper or rude at all. Indeed, she'd been much more polite then Bennet would have been. She leads him back to the exam table. "Disrobe, if you would."
Keme didn't notice Remy's reaction, given how distressed he was, the eyes ever lost. Probably, much more went inside than just his wounds. His head nodded as he striped his pants silently. The shot got him in the outer right tigh, peppering it with lead. "I hope the damage is not too great, doctor. I'll need to use this leg soon enough."
Remy frowns a bit as she starts to wash and examine the wound. "Mostly superficial. However, some got into the muscle. YOu must hold still while I extract it. YOu should be mostly off your leg to let it heal, sir. Walking on it will only exacerbate the injury."
Keme lets out a long sigh as he looks away once more, now worring taking his expression. "A masked man he… he kidnaped my fiancee. I can't just sit around and wait!"
Golden eyes look up at the man for a moment. "Sir, if you do not stay off your leg, you will lose the use of it completely. Is that what you wish? If so, I can just take it off now and save us both the trouble later. This can get infected much to easily. There are a myriad of men here to go looking for your fiancee."
Keme shakes his head and shrugs, saying really softly. "Two legs didn't help in the first time, right? And I…" He ceases talking and just murmurs. "Please, doctor, do as you should. I'll abide by your advices."
Remy nods quietly. "Do you wish anything to bite on? Or I can put you completely out while I dig out the shot in your leg. I assure you, it will be most painful.", she says.
Keme kept silent for a moment as he pondered about it. Usually, being put out would be his choice but, right now, he found himself deserving such pain, so his words were: "Give me something to bite, please."
Remy frowns a bit but moves to the cupboard and removes a leather strap. "HEre you are. Now. HOld stil. If you do not, I will have to put you out." She then proceeds to pour copious ammounts of some kind of alcohol on the wounds to clean them.
Keme growls fiercely at that, biting the strap with all strength his jaws had while his fingers clenched the edge of the table to the point of making his knuckes barely white. The eyes were slammed shut, but he held on enough, despite the shivering on his body, to allow Remy to do her work.
Remy does not stop in her ministrations. Indeed, she picks up a silver pair of tweezers and begins to pick the shot out of his thigh muscle, giving no apologies for the pain she is causing.
Keme was sweating cold, panting, most of his hair sticking to his skin except where clothes didn't allow it to happen. His collar too was soaked, and all he could do was slightly open an eye to try to see and guess how much more time Remy would need.
Remy takes her time, being meticulous. Finally, she pulls out the last piece. "There you are, sir. I will wrap it. But you must agree to stay off of it for as long as possible. And you will report any red streakings or pus or such to me directly. As I said, infection could make you lose the leg. Or worse, your life. Are we clear? You are not to go off searching for whomever. YOu are to stay in bed and off your leg."
Keme looks deep into Remy's eyes, panting and in silence. Finally, his head nods, but no words come from ir just yet, some more time passing until he says: "I'll do as you say. Thank you, doctor."
Nodding, Remy continues to wrap his leg. "You may stay here, if you like. I have some spare clothing that others have left. YOur pants are unusable now and will be burned. Where shall I send the bill?"
Keme shakes his head at the first sugestion, his color slowly returning to his cheeks. "I'll accept the clothing, and maybe something I can use as a cane. And I'd prefer to pay the bill right now because, as impressive as this is, the bandit took my fiancee but not my wallet."
"YOu have that kind of cash on hand, sir? That is not safe.", Remy says, frowning just a bit. The man should be in considerable pain, given the damage. "You are lucky to still be alive if it was a bandit. The masked bandit, if what you said is true. He has killed man in these parts from my understanding. As I said, it is not wise to carry cash with you, sir. The bill is twenty dollars. And the promise that you will come back to let me change the dressings and such."
Keme noded slowly and breathed deep in, running a hand through his hair. "He wore a mask indeed, probably that was him. And I'll be back, I promise."
Remy gives a nod and then moves to the corner. Taking out two crutches, she hands them to the man. "Use these. Stay off the leg. And may I have your name? For my books? And to keep your account until you pay it in full?"
Keme ohs at that question, one to trully bring him back to reality as he notices how impolite he had been. If hsi skin color alowed, he'd blush by being on his underwear in front of a woman. So, he clears his throat, wearing what was offered slowly and carefully. "I'm Keme Negahnquet, doctor. And what would your name be?"
Remy has not blushed, even at seeing a man in his underthings. She gives a nod and moves toward a book. "Can you spell that, please? If you are able to do so. And I am Doctor Remy Witherspoon-Bennet."
Keme spells his name slowly, letter by letter and, once completely dressed he nods at Remy. "Well, it's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs.Bennet. I think I must say I think I've been taken care by good hands."
Remy gives a nod and a brief smile. "A please, Mr. Negahnquet. I would like to see you again in two days. And I will know if you have been on your leg. I do not take kindly to my words not being seen to."
Keme nods, almost smiling, but really not able to. "Two days it is, Dr. Bennet. I guess I'll be on my way now."
Remy nods a bit. "have a good night, Mister Negahnquet. And be careful in the dark with those crutches. Mind what I said about your money as well."
"I will." He says with a nod and, limping, leaves the office.
